


Italian Squabbles

by Jae_universe, KitKat19



Series: Max et Pierre (english) [2]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Coming Out, Compliqued interview, Established Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Ice Cream, Interviews, M/M, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:33:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23475502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jae_universe/pseuds/Jae_universe, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitKat19/pseuds/KitKat19
Summary: /Two-shots\Chapter 1: Monza 2018, under a blazing sun, Pierre complies to do an interview, or rather tries to because Max (and his ice-cream) is more than determined to stop him.Chapter 2: After Max's dirty trick, Pierre wants nothing more than his revenge. To do so, he asks Daniel to help him, and together they're gonna carry out his plan, based on words and fantasy.
Relationships: Pierre Gasly/Max Verstappen
Series: Max et Pierre (english) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671229
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	1. Summer agony

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Chamailleries italiennes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21429802) by [Jae_universe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jae_universe/pseuds/Jae_universe). 



> Note of the translator:  
> I'm back! Hope you'll enjoy these chapters as well, it's always a pleasure to translate them (the only good side of the COVID-19 and quarantine is that I have more time to do it, at least when my teachers don't overload us with lots of homework and tests to do at home). Same here, I did my best but there are surely mistakes I didn't see, so please forgive me!

Thursday afternoon, Monza paddock. Pierre had just finished a meeting with Brendon and their engineers. He decided to stretch his legs by walking, paying attention to stay out of the sun sweltering heat in the shade of the motorhomes. The sky was blue to no end and the temperature above thirty degrees. Pierre signed some autographs, took the pose for some selfies, shook hands. In brief, the routine for a Formula 1 driver in the paddock.

While he was coming back to the huge Red Bull motorhome, Pierre met the French TV crew. They exchanged greetings and handshakes and talked for a few minutes. Pierre left them with a genuine smile – it was always a pleasure to talk with your fellows, and even a bigger joy when they were sympathetic, like the French TV merry men. 

In the doorway of the large Red Bull building, a journalist he promised an interview the day before was waiting for him. Usually, Pierre loved doing his interview outside, but today he wasn't against the AC of a building. He shook the reporter's hand; they exchanged some words and Pierre offered him to continue it inside his team's motorhome. Of course, the reported accepted with pleasure, secretly praying for the offer of a chiller place to conduct his interview; they entered the hospitality, oddly empty if not for some personnel members. They sat around a table, the journalist unpocketed a little tape-recorder, put it on the table and turned it on.

"Thank you, Pierre, for taking the time for this interview." The reporter said for an introduction, "Let's start by your weekend, what are you waiting from it?"

"A good result, as always," Pierre answered, "even if it's going to be hard, this type of track doesn't particularly fit our car…"

A few meters away, behind the journalist, Max sat to a table. Facing Pierre, he waved him, Pierre gave him a little smile in return. 

"Do you think you can reach the points?" The reporter inquired.

"Honestly, it will be hard, but we'll do our best to do so," Pierre assured, "We managed to have some good results on tracks that on the paper weren't good for us, so why not repeating such a performance here."

"Tell us more about the beginning of your season…"

The interview continued. Of the corner of his eyes, Pierre saw Max opened the packaging of his ice cream. A multicolour popsicle Max was looking at licking his lips, before sensually sliding his tongue on it. It slid on the pink part, the orange, the yellow, the green and the blue, then came back to the pink at the head, staring at Pierre. The Frenchman almost chocked on his saliva; his Adam's apple jolted. What was Max playing at? 

Max knew he had Pierre's attention. He licked delicately the pink head, turned his tongue around in a visible way, making sure from time to time nobody but Pierre spotted him. The pink part shortening, Max licked his upper lips and then shoved the popsicle in his mouth in an ambiguous movement. Pierre wanted to stare anywhere else, but couldn't, his eyes felt attracted to Max and he felt his blood going south – and to his cheeks – while Max stuck his ice cream out before taking it another time to his throat, still staring at Pierre who tried as best as he could to continue his interview.

"… a beautiful Grand Prix, which proved that the team had the necessary resources…"

Max sped up the back and forth of the popsicle in his mouth.

"… and I hope that… we will maintain this dynamic for the end of the season" Pierre concluded with difficulty.

"About next year," the journalist added, "your ambitions will inevitably be higher, but the pressure on you as well, by stepping up to a top team like Reb Bull."

Pierre couldn't focus on anything but Max and his damned ice cream. He was picturing his dick instead of the popsicle, he was feeling the wetness and heat of Max's mouth around him, his raspy tongue waving under, his lips tightening around his dick by going back and forth.

'I will kill him,' Pierre thoughts between two filthy thoughts.

"Er, yes," Pierre babbled, "as you said, there will be more expectations and pressure, but we must keep… a clearer head and not get carried away.

The fruity rainbow was going in and out of Max's mouth faster and faster. His size was decreasing very slowly in comparison, Max taking care to only suck it superficially. Pierre internally cursed in every language he knew. His thoughts weren't clear anymore and his body heating up more than right.

"Will podiums be a more realist objective?" the reporter assumed.

"According to the performance," Pierre said after a few seconds, "of the car and the engine, even if… for now, we don't need to think about it, I'm focusing on the end of my season at Scuderia Toro Rosso… We'll see next year"

"Your future teammate," the reporter continued, "Max Verstappen who you seem to get along with…"

Max. Pierre thought about all these things he could do to him when they are teammates and only the both of them in a peaceful and well sound insulated place. Not only pleasant things.

Max eventually stopped to torture his ice cream and Pierre's nerves. On his popsicle, only the blue and green parts were left, thin on the stick. Max grinned to Pierre savouring his triumph, materialized by Pierre's more than red cheeks, and his – surely – distorted shorts Max couldn't see at the moment.

"Well, I thank you for taking of your time of my interview," the journalist said.

Pierre had no idea of what he answered – visibly nothing inappropriate since the reporter smiled politely, the face still when he stopped the interview and put the tape-recorder away.

"Thank you," Pierre answered while they were shaking their hand.

"I wish you a good weekend," the journalist concluded, "Have a nice day Pierre"

"You too"

The journalist let Pierre's hand go, stood up and left. Pierre waited he was far enough to stand up and rush to Max's table, who was still staring at him with a proud grin.

"Fuck Max… You really are a child!"

Pierre's face was reddening even more, which amused a lot, Max.

"A child who made you hard," Max answered with a wink.

Pierre noticed the bulge twisting his shorts. He restrained himself from jumping on Max to strangle him, or rather drag him to with him to the bathroom – If Max wanted that much to suck him off, he would have plenty to do – because it would have attracted too much the attraction on him and his erection. Pierre licks his lips, before fleeing alone to the bathroom. And promised to himself he would be avenged.


	2. Reprisals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pierre spent part of his evening thinking of the best way to take his revenge on Max. He had a lot of ideas, some not that bad, like having fun at turning Max on just before the race to prevent him from emptying his bladder – a dirty trick not that uncommon between drivers, especially during their formulae years – but Pierre didn't want to wait. He wanted to get his revenge the day after. While he was looking for another plan, he suddenly smiled. He had found the perfect plan, a subtle one which would work for sure, Max wouldn't even think it was his revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes of the translator:
> 
> Hi there! I'm back and as always, I tried to keep the spirit Jae put in all of his works and to stay as close as possible of the original text, but French being French and English being English it wasn't always easy to do so (dear Jae, if you know how I hated you when I was on this "dirty slang dictionary", it ruined my innocence ♥). Last but not least, there will surely be mistakes that passed through my rereading, so please English natives, don't insult the poor French I am. Enjoy!

Thursday morning, Monza. If Pierre had the perfect plan, he needed a partner in crime to carry it out and Pierre knew very well who he wanted: Daniel. Daniel, because he wasn't the last to play a dirty trick and others pranks, and because he looked like he knew for Max's penchant based on the terrible jokes he was making.

Pierre texted Daniel to set up an appointment at the entrance of the Paddock. He drove him between two motorhomes, a quiet place in the morning. If he wanted him to participate in his plan, he first had to come out to him.

"You told me about making a prank to Max," Daniel asked with a cheerful face.

"Yes," Pierre approved, "Well, it's kinda special, I prefer to warn you…"

"Oh, you scare me," Daniel cried out with a big grin, "Go on, spill the tea."

"Okay, so here is the context. I'm bi."

Daniel falsely acted surprised before laughing.

"That, I knew! It's like it's written all over your face," Daniel joked.

Pierre smiled. Daniel wasn't wrong.

"Oh," Pierre whispered, "Very well then. Max and I are… friends with benefit."

This time, Daniel was really surprised.

"Max finally dared to take the plunge," Daniel said nodding, "that's cool! But he hid it well to me that little prick!"

"Yesterday, he played a dirty trick on me. This idiot had fun licking a popsicle – I don't need to explain to you how – in front of me while I was doing an interview… No need to tell you what he was aiming at!"

Daniel busted into laugher imagining the scene, how Max playfully licked his ice lolly as if he was licking another thing and how Pierre, his hard dick distorting his shorts, tried to answer to the reporter.

"So, you want to get your revenge, that's it," Daniel chuckled, "Go on, you have me curious!"

"Yes, but I need you for this…"

Pierre explained to Daniel his plan. The Australian attentionally listened to him nodding, his grin wider and wider. Oh yes, he was into pranking Max.

At the end of the afternoon, Max was sat in his motorhome with three old friends. The four of them enjoyed themselves to the full, remembering their stupid things and childhood memories. It pleased Max that his friends came to Monza to support him.

Pierre and Daniel came into the motorhome. They greeted their colleague and his friends, heartily shaking their hands. Max smirked made eye contact with Pierre, remembering his successful trick of the previous day.

Daniel and Pierre sat at the table behind Max. They began to talk about their feedback, their feeling on this historical track of Monza. On his side, Max got a global sigh to his latest intervention – he maybe was too direct –. He touched his ears while the discussion went on, and heard a snatch of Pierre and Daniel's conversation. 

"… a fucking ass, "Pierre said in a whisper, "he turned me on"

"And it ended in a bed," Daniel asked, chuckling like a teenage girl.

"Oh yes! What a fucking shag it was…"

Max couldn't believe it. Was Pierre really tell Daniel about his sexual encounters?

"… We can say whatever we want… 'ing well-built, Germans…"

Max frowned while moving his chair. He couldn't hear everything because of his friends' laughs. One of them tapped on his shoulder, Max smiled to his companions interiorly ranting about them. He followed the rest of the discussion, now calmer, and eavesdropped to listen to Pierre's words.

"… his thing, it seemed to be an interesting experience, so I said yes. Phillip began to grope me, took my shirt off. I remove the rest, put the dress, the wig and the heels on.

Max didn't know what shock him the most: Pierre cross-dressing for a one night stand or him speaking about it openly – moreover with Daniel –. And wait, who was this Phillip?

"He put his hand under my dress and rubbed my ass, without stopping kissing my neck" Pierre continued.

Max couldn't help but imagine the scene. Pierre wearing a black cloth-fitting dress, on his high heels, a long brown wig and his feline gaze, more sensual than ever thanks to his thin eye-liner… Max could see him putting his hand under his dress…

"… a while. I unbuckled his belt, unzipped his trousers and took off his underwear, kneeled off to suck his dick. His hands stroked my hair, accompanying my movements. I stopped and stood up to push him towards the bed. He rubbed again my ass while I finished undressing him. I lay down, he moved my dress' straps to have access to my chest. His hot tongue on my skin, on my nipples, his big hands brushing my lower stomach, that's was hot. He stroked my thighs then my balls, giving me the chills with envy… He jerked me off and sucked me, I kept my hand busy by caressing my chest…"

Daniel whispered something Max didn't hear.

"He freed my cock and I turned on my stomach. His hands pulled my dress, spread my cheeks. I felt him pushing into me and tensed, moaning. He firmly penetrated me, holding me by my hips, our bodies colliding to each back and forth…"

Max was feeling hot. Very hot. He suddenly realized he had a hard-on. And to say he could hide it with his white cotton shorts was an understatement. One of his friends asked him if everything was alright, indicating his face was red. Max babbled that yes, everything was fine, it was normal to be red seeing how hot it was here.

I'm screwed, he thought, trying to find a better position to hide his erection. Even if he put all of his wills, he couldn't divert his attention from Pierre's story.

"loudly moaned, it was so intense. He pulled out before I came, helped me to turn and thrust once more into me. I came a few seconds later, he pulled out to cum on my stomach. We kissed again, still touching each other. I couldn't anymore…" 

Max pinched his lips. He didn't know how to back out of this, no way his friends saw him with a hard-on, in Max's opinion it would be evident for them there was something with Pierre.

How relieved he was when his friends told him they were going back to their hotel. Max blocked his breath while they stood up and clapped his back as a goodbye, and hastily breathed when they were gone. Max looked back, his face as red as his rival's car, and felt on Pierre's smirk. Daniel busted into a laugher, crying so much he was hilarious. Max understood he had been trapped; his throat tightened. 

"Pierre," Max whispered, giving the Frenchman an accusing but scared look.

"We're even now," Pierre answered.

"How could you bring Daniel in?"

"And you? We could have been caught by a reporter! A reporter Max!"

Max didn't answer, perfectly conscient Pierre was right. He deserved Pierre's revenge, even though it hurt Pierre used Daniel for it. What will he think of him now…

Max hastily stood up and ran towards his room, praying not to meet someone on his way.

Pierre smiled. Max started it all.


End file.
